Hameln
by Spitfireness
Summary: There's no Francie, no Allison Doren. Look, there's no one there at all.


Author: Nes Email: lochmoninov@yahoo.com Rating: Er, PG13? Spoilers: Freplica. Summary: There's no Francie. There's no Allison Doren. Look, there's nothing there at all. Disclaimer: I don't own anything, it's Bad Robot and ABC. Also, this story was inspired by the fairy tale, "The Pied Piper of Hameln" even though I'll be the first to admit I wandered off. Distribution: CM September 03 challenge. Others please ask and I will smile and say yes.  
  
Hameln  
  
I  
  
Once upon a time there was a town in shadow of the mountain Poppenberg. Hameln had fields to feed and walls to shield, but nothing could protect it from the plague to come. Rats fell upon the town and they gnashed close to the bone. Then, one day a man appeared in a cloak of bright patches with a reed at his lips. He offered a contract, to rid Hameln of its plague in return for mortal gold. Starving Hameln accepted his terms and held its breath when the piper breathed enchantment into his instrument. He led the rats to drown in the river, his piebald cloak coiled about his legs. But Hameln did not keep its promise; it would not pay the price set. So the piper played a different tune, though equally enchanting, and he led the children of Hameln away across the fields, through the forests, and into a mountain never to see the world again.  
  
II  
  
Billy is your neighbor. He's got blue eyes and is six, just the same as you. He's a boy but that only gets in the way when you admit you want to be Smurfette and he points out that she's blonde and you aren't. You tell him not to be stupid, you know she's blonde but she's blue, too. You're not blue but you don't see him pointing *that* out.  
  
Your parents come home and send Billy home. They turn off the Smurfs and turn on the news. They say you can't watch the Smurfs anymore because they're too Red. But you don't understand because, as you've just pointed out to Billy, the Smurfs are blue.  
  
Some time after, you get your first piece of mail ever. A man with long coat and scarlet hat delivers it right to your door. You borrow the letter opener from your father and make a neat crease in the envelop instead of ripping it open like you want to. Inside is a paper inviting you to Hanover Sleepaway Camp for the summer. There are pictures of horses to ride and lakes to canoe in. You're not sure if canoe is a verb, but it looks like fun. There's a whole page on the overnight camping trip with tents and bonfires and the heading, "Teaching your kids to survive in the wild." You can almost smell the marshmallows melting out their gooey white insides. Mom and Dad think it'll be okay to go, but you worry for a minute. You've never been away from home and they say Billy won't be there. You takes another look at the brochure and notice all the smiling, the kids sure look nicer than the ones at school. The kids at school says you're a smartypants and stick banana peels into the pocket of your coat. You hate the way your hands smell when you throw them away. You bet the kids at camp will be nicer; they won't call you a geek because they'll be just the same as you.  
  
***  
  
When you get home from camp, all you do is sleep. Your parents talk about what fun you must have had and tell their friends you learned a lot. School starts and they've stopped putting banana peels in your coat; they've started using mud. One day, you lose your temper and lob a ball right at someone's head during dodgeball. Their nose bleeds but somehow you can't make yourself feel sorry. The gym teacher just looks surprised, your throws were always too far or too long before. You never hit anything last year. She shrugs and sends you to the bench but it's okay because you *know* there won't be mud in your pockets tomorrow. Billy laughs when you tell him and your parents are not proud. They send you to your room and you yell angrily. You wish you were back at sleepaway camp where they didn't bother you. You can never tell Billy exactly what happened at camp so he thinks you're lying about how fun it was. But you're not. You can't help that it is a blur of swimming, crafts, and sports. You can't help that he spent his summer watching television at his grandma's. You would never lie to Billy, you promise him you never will. It doesn't stop him from getting mad about it. You tell him the slide at Camp Hanover is two times as big and that the playground is full of great junk like obstacle courses. He calls you a liar and pushes you to the ground. You feel something tugging at you, you want to kick him *hard* in the shins so he'll fall down, too. But you don't. It doesn't matter, though, because he won't talk to you anymore.  
  
The next day he won't even sit by you on the bus. You have to sit behind the driver because no one else will sit with you. You take out your math book and read ahead until the bus breaks hard and your head cracks against the window. When you wake up the driver is pulling you out of the bus. It's burning. You scream. He pulls you against him so you can't see the other kids trapped on the bus. You scream until he slaps you and then you really look at him. He's wearing a baseball cap but the coat is the same. This is the man who delivered your invitation to Camp Hanover. Your memory is very good; you're positive. But before you can say anything he leads you away from the wreckage into the trees. There's a car hidden there and you drive away, the only sound is his whistling. And then, sirens in the distance.  
  
***  
  
He takes you to the mountain. It's underground and built like a maze, you could not open the door if you could find it. There are no windows, so the constant buzz of flourescent lights comforts you like a lullaby.  
  
The next day you meet the other kids. Some of them are from camp. You wonder if this is your fault. You wished you were back at camp and now here you are.  
  
You forget about assigning blame the minute they assign you a number. One through twenty. You are number four. Your first thought is that four is great number. Two times two is four, two plus two is four. A square has four sides and four corners. Four is not a bad number to be. You've never liked the name Allison, anyway.  
  
***  
  
By fifteen, you hate the number four. If you're going to be anything, you'll be number one. The numbers are pointless now, anyway. The mountain has culled their numbers down to twelve.  
  
They call you Vee. It's a byproduct of learning languages. Child Number One became Moja when they learned Swahili; Eight became Vosem when they learned Russian. They started calling you "vier" after the German section. You like it because it sounds like fear, but the other kids haven't mentioned that. You take it as a positive sign. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know real kids have names.  
  
Sometimes you sit at desks, the way you remember school before the mountain. They learn languages and how to make bombs out of everyday household items. Or what you imagines are everyday items outside the mountain. You wouldn't know.  
  
Sometimes you sit around and try to remember life as Allison. You decide she was stupid. You can't be Allison because you're not stupid. You are first in strategy and combat out of all the kids in the mountain. You know this because the man in the scarlet hat and long coat told you so. You lost your virginity to him last week. That was part of your training, too, so you made sure you were damned good at it.  
  
Allison's mother never got around to explaining the birds and the bees but losing your virginity *means* something. It means you've successfully completed fifteen operations. Small things, like stealing an artifact or planting a bug or killing a target. You got to go out of the mountain for these, but not really. They bussed you back and forth with no from missions -that part really reminded you of school. Then again, kids don't die at school because they put their back to a window or never ask too many questions.  
  
You'll be number one. Maybe then they'll let you out.  
III  
  
One day, the man in the scarlet hat and coat comes to your cot. He tells you to go to the med, and you do. Of course you do, he told you to. There's a table they make you lay on and bright lights overhead.  
  
When you wake up, you're in a bed. Your body tingles. The tell you you've been asleep for days. A side effect. It's not the only one.  
  
You're to go on assignment. Infiltration. Undercover. Doce, Vosem, and Ni are jealous with envy. Doce nearly breaks your arm in the gym. You weren't paying attention. You were looking in the mirror. You hate this new body. It doesn't move right; it doesn't feel right. But you'll make it okay. Tomorrow you will break both of Doce's arms and make him cry. There's a reason you are number one.  
  
You spend a lot of time in front of the mirror now, learning the ways of this new body, so you see Sark's reflection first. Soon you realize, that's all you or anyone else will ever see. Sark is only an image in glass.  
  
You think he'll be your handler, but he makes a correction. You will be *his* asset.  
  
You tell him not to call you Allison, but he does. You don't like it and you don't like him. He's got this knowing look in his eyes. But maybe that's how it should be because he's the only one who's ever been outside this godamned mountain. Of course, he knows more that you do.  
  
He even speaks differently from everyone in the mountain. You are all terse but he speaks with luxury and long vowels.  
  
One day you lose your patience. You've been Vee for so long, you're not Allison. Maybe you never were? No, no, you were. You remember. You don't want to, but there it is. So one day he looks at you with those eyes (the same blue as Billy's and what were the odds) and it's like he never blinks, that man, he just drinks you in and in except there's nothing left of you so what *is* he looking at?  
  
So one day the syllables of your old name cascade off that crooked lip of his like silk and you punch him in the mouth. Well, you try. But he's quick, surprising quick, and instead he is massaging your wrist in smooth long strokes, you almost don't notice your fist is held against your back. Your eyes are open. You discover his crooked lip is as soft as the lies he tells so you lean into his body and return the kiss. You know where this is going, you're going to end up on the floor with your pants around your ankles. But he's moaning Allison into your open mouth and you think maybe that's okay because his eyes are Billy blue and it's closest thing to a choice you've made in twenty years. These are your reasons; your eyes are open.  
  
IV  
  
Outside isn't what you thought it would be. You were taught that professionals don't sleep together but Sark won't stop touching you, so you do. He says he loves Allison so you figure it's okay. You're not Allison so he doesn't love anyone; there are no feelings to cloud the job.  
  
The first thing you do when you leave the mountain is buy a pack of cigarettes. You know you shouldn't because Francie does not smoke. But Allison didn't smoke and Vee doesn't smoke, so you make sure to buy an economy pack. Sark hates the smell so naturally you are soon a nicotine addict.  
  
California is what you thought it would be. You hate Sydney Bristow. She keeps whining about her parents and her complicated spy life, but she has *no* idea and it takes a great amount of patience to smile and comfort instead of pulling out your gun. When you watch the feed of her and Vaughn having sex, it occurs to you that you see everything from this distance. They could be going at it right in front of you, and you'd feel just as detached.  
  
So you go find Will and you touch him the way and in the places Sydney touches Vaughn. Will moans incoherently and you're glad because he doesn't try to put a name to you. And also because he can't hear you when you scream, Billy.  
  
Or at least you think he can't. Later, he will coil his body around Francie's and say he hasn't been called that in years. You blink. Then he asks when you started smoking. You lie, like you always do but he just laughs. He doesn't push. He tells you it's okay, whatever you want, he says, I don't love you because of what you do, or what you don't do. I just love you. You blink, and then you blink again, and finally you close your eyes.  
  
He can't see you. You can't even see you.  
  
But it makes you wonder, anyway. You read his files. He was an investigative reporter before, and a good one. His ability to question and find truth made him dangerous to SD-6 and now dangerous to you. If he looks hard enough and asks the right questions, maybe he can find you. Not Francie, Allison, or Vee, but you...the thought is tempting fruit.  
  
The next night you fuck him senseless and begin hypnosis. You stare into his eyes and plum the secrets of the CIA from his mind. The sun shines the next morning and he plants a tender kiss on your forehead. He tells you he loves you but you don't feel sorry. 


End file.
